


Prayers

by sternflotte



Series: winter is coming [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7360366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternflotte/pseuds/sternflotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon and Sansa in the Godswood at Winterfell</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prayers

**Author's Note:**

> Jon & Sansa in the Godswood at Winterfell (based on the TV Show and set between 06.09 and 06.10)

Jon does not notice her as he steps into the Godswood. She stays silent as he drops to his knees and Sansa is startled to see the tears in his eyes.

“For what have you punished me?” Jon asks, face raised towards the face carved on their weirwood tree. “What crime have you found so horrible that you decided I must be punished? Which one was it? I never asked to escape death, I never wanted the crown neither.”

Sansa shudders at the anguish in his voice. She hates to hear him so in pain.

“Why did you have to take Rickon from me, from Sansa? Why not just take me?”

Jon drops his forehead to the snow-covered ground and his loud breaths echo through the Godswood as though nature has fallen silent in respect.

Sansa steps out from behind the tree and the crack of the ice beneath her feet snaps through the silence. Jon's head snaps up and he stares at her as she walks up to him.

“Do you blame me?”

“What?”

“Do you blame me for Father's death? For Lady Catelyn's? For Robb's?”

“No!” Jon sounds so offended, Sansa nearly smiles. “Of course not, Sansa!”

“Then do not blame yourself for Rickon's.” Sansa reaches out and touches the side of Jon's face without thinking to much of it. “I do not blame you. The only one to blame was Ramsay, and he got what he deserved.”

“I-” Jon's face drops to the ground and Sansa clenches her jaw against the urge to cry. “I am so angry.”

“Me too. But we must be strong now. We have to reunite the north.” She looks up at the red leaves of the weirwood tree above her and refuses to let the tears building in her eyes fall. “We have to unite our lands against the Others. And we will, Jon, we have to.”

Jon shudders beneath her fingers and he rests his forehead against her stomach. She cradles his head as she feels his sobs through her dress.

It is still peaceful here in the Godswood, even if the rest of Winterfell and the North is in shambles. The Godswood stands strong, because even the Bolton's and Greyjoy's had not dared to touch the Godswood.

She wants nothing more than ride to the Dreadfort alone and set fire to the castle. She wants nothing more than raze all the Boltons, Freys and Greyjoys still remaining to the ground. Sansa also knows they need as many people as possible to fight against the Others.

 **Please let us win** , she begs of the Gods, **let us live. Let them retake** **the north** **t** **ogether.**


End file.
